


A Night on Spoon Island

by edwardsmom



Category: General Hospital
Genre: M/M, RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 11:49:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4918420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/edwardsmom/pseuds/edwardsmom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a party at Wyndemere, Lucky and Nikolas discover that one guest missed the last boat off the island.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night on Spoon Island

**Author's Note:**

> This was written with Lucky as played by Jacob Young and Nikolas as played by Coltin Scott in mind. This was my first slash story, and I think I wrote it because it was pretty much undeniable; there’s no way once you’ve seen that particular Lucky and that particular Nikolas together that you can un-see it. And JC’s incredibly easy on the eyes, why not throw him into the mix?
> 
> Also — yes, Bread and Roses really _does_ throw volunteer parties like this. They're a blast.

Lucky and Nikolas stopped waving as the last boat left the island and walked slowly back to Wyndemere together, both lost in thought. Finally, Lucky shook his head in wonder, grinning as he said aloud what he’d been thinking all night. “Nikolas, when you throw a party, you really _throw a party_!”

“I just hope everyone had a good time,” he replied, still looking worried.

“Will you relax already?” He threw an arm around Nik’s shoulder and hugged him tight. “You made sure there was plenty to eat and drink, that the mikes and speakers were working, the pianos were tuned, that everyone who wanted to perform had a chance to — you had a rock stage going out by the pool, country and western out by the barbecue on the terrace, songwriters in the den, a comedy club in the game room, a jazz parlor in the back sitting room…everyone had a _great_ time, there’s no way they couldn’t!”

Nikolas, still frowning, was clearly unsure. “You really think so?”

The arm around his too-serious brother’s shoulders suddenly became a headlock as Lucky forcibly gave him a noogie. And Nikolas finally burst into laughter.

Lucky joined in, relieved and exasperated, and they were still giggling when they stumbled into the mansion together and locked the door behind them, trying not to collapse on the floor.

“Alone at last,” Lucky sighed. 

They exchanged grins, and then Nik leaned close and kissed him. “Thanks, little brother.”

“Anytime, my prince.”

They kissed again, more slowly this time, and then started unsteadily down the hall. Nikolas groaned, “Oh, man, I am _never_ throwing a party like that again!”

“What do you mean? This is going to be an annual event!” Lucky teased.

“Is that the sound of you being the first to volunteer?”

“Hey, I wasn’t volunteering — ”

Nik held up a hand. “Did you hear something?”

Lucky frowned. “Like…a piano?”

“Exactly.”

They walked a little faster down the hall, following the sound of a short run of notes played over and over again, now a little slower, now in a minor key, now with a syncopated beat, as if someone were trying to find just the right phrasing.

“Think one of the caterers got left behind?” Lucky joked.

“If they did, they’re staying overnight — I’m not taking the Cassadine yacht out just because one person missed ‘last call,’” Nikolas said as they walked into the sitting room at the back of the mansion. 

Their very last guest, who sat at the grand piano in what had been the “jazz parlor,” looked up as they came in. He was a slender man in his late twenties, with luminous blue eyes, and curly dark hair showing from beneath a baseball cap. _Cute_ , Nikolas thought, continuing into the room, while Lucky’s opinion stopped him dead in his tracks. _Omigod, he’s **hot**_!

“I’m sorry — did I disturb you?” he asked, straightening away from the piano and lifting his hands from the piano keys to rest them in his lap, looking from one brother to the other.

Nik noticed the row of post-its traveling across the music stand with sketchy musical notations written on them. He smiled, able to appreciate the impulses of a fellow musician. “We have manuscript paper, you know — twelve stave, five system, guitar tab…they’re all in the piano bench.” 

The other man saw mild interest in the brooding, dark-haired man’s countenance, and something several degrees more intense in the blond’s eager gaze, and didn’t mind either look. He smiled back as Nik and Lucky sank onto the sofa by the piano. “It would have been a lot easier if I’d known that,” he said, turning around to face them.

“Can’t fit much on a post-it — I know, I’ve tried it, too,” Lucky said, flinging a leg over the sofa arm and looking closely at the piano player, feeling that he’d seen him before but not sure where. “So what are you working on?”

“I had this riff running through my head all evening and wanted to work on it, and I saw the piano and an empty room…”

“Not a problem,” Nik said easily. “I’m Nikolas Cassadine, by the way. This is my brother, Lucky Spencer.”

“I know. I heard you being introduced earlier. I’m J.C. Chasez.” 

The name meant nothing to Nikolas, whose taste in music ran more towards John Coltrane and Miles Davis, but Lucky sat up in excitement and exclaimed, “J.C. Chasez — I _knew_ I knew you from somewhere! What are you doing here?”

He pulled his cap off, revealing more of his face, and smiled. “I heard about the party — and I hate to miss a good party!”

“Did you have a good time?” Nikolas suddenly asked, anxious. Lucky whacked him on the shoulder (“Ow!”), but J.C. assured him,

“I did! It was a great concept — throwing a party for performers and giving them all a chance to do what they love best, perform! Actually, this was probably the best place for someone who didn’t want to be recognized — if everyone’s intent on performing, then they’re too busy to look for celebrities.”

Lucky frowned slightly. “But I still don’t understand how you heard about a party that was just for Bread and Roses volunteers.”

“I was one of the volunteers.” At his surprised expression, he went on, “When we were on tour in California some fans who were part of a dance troupe told me about the Bread and Roses project, how they were volunteering their time to bring live entertainment to shut-ins. The band’s on hiatus now and when I heard that Bread and Roses was being started in Port Charles I wanted to be a part of it, so I signed up as ‘Josh Scott,’ solo piano player, and was sent to several convalescent homes and the minimum security prison.” 

“I appreciate that,” Nik said sincerely. “That’s exactly the kind of attitude it takes to make something like this work. It was good of you to take the time.”

“It was my pleasure,” he assured them. “I think you guys have done a really great thing in Port Charles, I really do.”

“Us?” Lucky shook his head. “It was all Nik. He was the one who contacted all the nursing homes and drug rehabs and prisons and hospitals, got the word out to every entertainer in Port Charles — ”

“Lucky,” Nikolas said, a warning in his voice, but his younger brother ignored him and went on,

“ — matched everyone up with venues, scheduled everyone, made sure there was a piano at St. Emydius or microphones and speakers over at New Bridge — ”

“I had the money, and I had the time,” Nik said with a shrug, dismissing the incredible logistical job he’d taken on during the past year. “And I had a good reason for doing it.” He met J.C.’s eyes squarely. “Our mother, Laura Spencer, is in a treatment center in England. And I’d like to think that a branch of Bread and Roses out there will send someone to visit her and brighten her day with a song or a joke or two.” 

“I hope so,” J.C. said softly. “That’s an amazing tribute to her.”

“She’s an amazing woman,” Lucky said.

The brothers traded a glance that J.C. immediately sensed went deeper than words, and he said, “Well, listen, after throwing a party like that you must want to close up shop, so I’ll just clear out — ”

“Actually, you missed the last boat back and Nikolas was just telling me how he wasn’t going to sail the Cassadine yacht just for one person,” Lucky said, sensing his secret fantasies about J.C. just might be coming true.

“Unless you have to be somewhere tonight,” Nik said, and Lucky felt like smacking him again until he went on, “Otherwise, you’ve got your choice of guest rooms, you’re welcome to stay.”

His smile was genuine. “I’d like that. If it’s okay, I’d like to work on this song for a little longer — ”

“What have you got so far? Do you want to try it out on us?” Lucky offered eagerly.

J.C. could barely suppress a grin — he definitely knew who was going to find his way into his bed tonight. He replied, “Do you want to help me write it?”

Lucky’s eyes lit up. “Could we? I’d love to!” 

Nikolas arose and went to the fireplace to build up the fire, as unable to conceal his amusement as J.C. was his delight. His little brother was so obvious sometimes. “So, how do you two know each other?” he asked over his shoulder.

“We’ve never met,” Lucky explained hastily, as J.C. added,

“Lucky knows me because he knows the group I sing with, N*Sync.”

“What kind of music?”

“Dance pop, mostly,” J.C. said. Nik felt his smile become more polite than sincere — more of Lucky’s “boy band” music he’d never quite understand — when Lucky came to his idol’s defense.

“Oh, come on, it’s more than that! I can hear so many influences in the songs you write, from...Led Zeppelin to...Craig David, to Sting, to...”

“I appreciate that. Not everyone can hear all that,” J.C. said, and added, “But at heart I’m a jazz fan.”

Nik turned away from the fire, unable to believe it. “No kidding! Me, too!”

“Really? Have you heard Josh Redman’s latest — ”

“What did you think about his going electric this time?”

Josh Redman’s music wasn’t the only thing that was electric as Nikolas and J.C. gazed at each other. “Wasn’t that the wildest damned thing?” J.C. asked. “But at the same time, every album kept pushing the boundaries a little more, a little more…you could see that in some ways, it makes perfect sense…” 

“Just like the chances you take in your own music,” Lucky pointed out, grinning at the palpable attraction between his brother and his favorite pin-up. “Not that I know who Josh Redman is.”

Nik gave Lucky a look. “I just played his CD for you the other day!” At his continued blank look he prompted, “Saxophone, keyboard, drums...a little Weather Report, a little funk...there was this song where — ”

Lucky shrugged. “In one ear and out the other.”

“You’re hopeless.”

J.C. grinned at them both. “Are we going to write a song or what?” 

Lucky leapt up with alacrity and sat down at his left as he turned back around to face the keyboard. Nik moved more slowly, sizing up how much weight the piano bench could take before settling in close at J.C.’s right. There was some maneuvering as they tried to figure out how they could all fit and at the same time allow J.C. to reach the keyboard, and finally Nik rested one of his arms around J.C.’s shoulders and Lucky slipped an arm around his waist. 

J.C. played chorus, verse, chorus, verse, and then explained that he just wasn’t happy with the bridge and played the few ideas he’d come up with and rejected.

“How about this?” Lucky asked, meticulously picking out a series of notes with one hand that gradually modulated a half-step higher than the chorus.

“Wow! That’s great! No one’s ever done that before!” Nik deadpanned. “How about…” He tried something else, a sort of jazzy fugue that took flight from the melody line and threatened to spiral out of control and finally made Lucky roll his eyes.

“Earth to Nik...Earth to Nik...” he called. “Where did that come from, anyway?”

“That’s...a little weird,” J.C. admitted, “but if we took this part...” He played a little of Nik’s bridge, using a different emphasis that eventually modulated the way Lucky’s had. “How’s that?”

Nik considered, his hand absently stroking J.C.’s shoulder. “That works musically,” he finally said, “but it really depends on the song, what it’s about, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t have any lyrics yet,” J.C. said, “but I’ve just been thinking about some...”

“...maybe about...unexpected meetings...?” Lucky suggested, his arm tightening around J.C.’s waist.

“...between three people...?” J.C.’s gaze shifted to Nikolas, who smiled and gave him a small nod.

“You’d better start with Lucky,” Nik deadpanned, “he’s been dying to kiss you.”

“Ever since your first album came out,” Lucky avowed, making J.C. laugh, but he still bent his head and leaned close, cupping Lucky’s cheek with his hand as their lips met.

Nik’s hand continued to caress J.C.’s shoulder, moving lazily to his neck, down his back, as he watched the two men kiss. When J.C. finally turned to him, he grinned at the slightly dazed look on his little brother’s face before he gathered J.C. in his arms and urged his mouth open with his. Lucky put his arms around J.C. and, with no room to maneuver, settled for nuzzling and kissing the back of his neck.

“...my choice of guest rooms?” 

“That’s right,” Nikolas said, smoothing the other man’s curls back from his face.

J.C. laced the fingers of one hand through Lucky’s and his other hand covered Nik’s, blue eyes glowing with anticipation. “Which one has the biggest bed?” he asked.

 

**_FIN_ **


End file.
